I’ve just spent five days at St Deiniol’s Library which was restorative, relaxing, interesting, modestly productive, and reassures me that my brain can still be kick-started given the right kick and the right fuel! What makes St Deiniol’s special is the people who go there, the Library itself with its atmosphere of prayer and learning, the ethos of Victorian ingenuity and support for humane learning, and the overall concept of a residential bolt hole for those who want to pursue divine learning or whose vocation is theological education – which if we are to be adequate to the task presupposes that our own theological education and commitment to divine learning remains both an enthusiasm and a calling.
Let’s talk ethos. The original oak interior of the library has been preserved, including the ingenious arrangement of shelves allowing maximum books in available space. Unlike many academic institutions, there isn’t the same urgency to move older stuff to the less accessible stacks, so much of the original older library is there mingled with the new – I worked a lot on psalm 119 for reasons I’ll mention in a later post. But I was happy as Larry (anyone know the origin of this phrase?) sitting at a table beside Neal and Littledale’s five volume Victorian bric a brac shop of Patristic comment on the Psalter, Spurgeon’s homiletic supermarket called the Treasury of David, the venerable two volume J S S Perowne, devout Anglican commentator on the Psalms, the equally imposing commentary by Joseph Addison Alexander, Reformed Calvinist and important conservative biblical scholar at mid 19th century Princeton, as well as the latest Hermeneia volume Sean enthused about earlier this year, and several of the spate of recent usable sized and theologically enriched commentaries on Psalms by Bob Davidson from Glasgow, John Eaton of Birmingham – and a new discovery I’ll blog about soon. Point is – though several recent important volumes weren’t there, much that isn’t so easy to find is.
But what gives working in the Library an added sense of prayerful purpose is the early morning pre-breakfast Eucharist for those who want to communicate. To join study with the wider church at prayer was an important reminder each day that theological study and theological education has its goal in a developing, deepening devotion to God. The liturgy is simple, carefully crafted, each day was conducted with the right balance of dignity and personal warmth, and is shared by people representing the diversity and richness of the Body of Christ. The quiet coolness and filtered light of the library add to the sense of being about God’s business, physical reminders that study is slowed down prayer, quietened thought, and instilling a gentle awareness that to study is to want to know, and to want to know requires an inner humility that recognises there is much to learn, much to receive, and much for which to give thanks – including the gift of the work of those from whom we learn.
I read a chunk of Bonhoefer’s Discipleship, a book which decisively frustrates any attempt at skim or speed reading, information filleting or desultory browsing. Bonhoeffer is uncompromising, utterly to the point about discipleship as personal response to the crucified risen Jesus. Reading him I realise how easy it has been to lose that edge of fitness and stamina, to relax that alertness and readiness for self expenditure required of cross carrying Christians. If I’d found myself on Manchester United’s training field, the physical demands of keeping up with the pace might be considered the equivalent of hearing that remarkable voice of a young German pastor lay out the demands of discipleship and the costliness of responding to the grace of God in Christ. The right book, read in the right place, at the right time……
Leave a Reply